Warbeast
by The Archivist of Eternity
Summary: Every creature has a past. This is but one example. Invasion Fic' for ASouffleToServeTwo.


Warbeast

**Damn you Soufflé… I will have vengeance… the bloody Armoured Boar? Bet you thought you would catch me by surprise… You have failed…**

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

Erik watched as his strange summoner once again performed that strange ritualistic dance. He would only do it while carrying a strange trident, but what did it matter? If he wanted to waste his time, lordspeed to 'im. Erik was more interested in the belltower.

Erik was a bit of a… sellsword, per-say. He would place his white summon soapstone down and await the inevitable feeling of summoning, the small pull at the base of his neck, top draw him into another world. This time, the man who had summoned him was wearing the robes of a mage, but was carrying the trident of one of the strange channelers of Seath.

Finally, the man stopped his little dance and gestured to advance, Erik leading the way. The first foe in their way was one of the Hollow soldiers, clad in shoddy iron plate, but wielding a longsword that was still very much sharpened and painful.

Erik, meanwhile, was clad in a hardened leather tunic with a metallic shoulder pad and leather boots, keeping him light on his feet but well protected. His weapon was especially interesting, one of the divine swords of the Astoran Knights. He wielded it in one hand with a Talisman in the other, with which he would cast Force and Healing, to aid him in battle.

He cast force now, knocking the Hollow to the ground, before stabbing down, piercing the pitiful creatures neck. His next opponent was another Hollow, but this one wielding a spear and shield, which it rarely lowered. Erik simply kicked the creatures guard down before stabbing forwards, piercing the iron protecting its chest and killing it outright.

The man behind him performed his little dance again, stabbing the trident towards the sky while hopping from one foot to the other, looking like he needed to take a piss. Erik slapped his palm to his face, before advancing across the thin bridge to the next opponents, the rats.

Erik lured the creatures out one by one, killing them efficiently, and with minimal hassle. His blade pierced their hides like a battleaxe through butter, and he began to climb the ladder, to the next location.

Upon reaching the top, the phantom rushed ahead, towards a Hollowed swordsman, who noticed him, went to stab with his sword, and received a trident blade through the neck for his efforts. Erik was mildly impressed with his summoners speed, until the man began dancing again.

Then, once he passed through the raised gate, he saw IT. Visions of burning battlefields passed through his mind, visions of his past as a soldier in his small nations military as they warred against another small, inconsequential nation. Termino and Valus, two tiny nations of men, who had warred for almost a century without end.

He had served in the Termino military, a proud, if small, force of soldiers. They had declared war on Valus for… reason he couldn't really remember all too well, but they did declare war. Oh, did they declare war. Soldiers were marching through the streets of the capital in ranks, banners raised high as they marched, having no idea what it was they would soon be fighting.

The battle of Iron Gulch; the first, and last, true battle of the Valus-Termino conflict, as it was named. And it was a massacre. Valus had gotten hold of strange beasts, boars, armoured like knights. Arrows would deflect off their armour, swords barely scratching it as they smashed apart entire formations of soldiers.

Erik had run, finding sanctuary in a small chapel in the mountains, where he learned the art of miracles. He was still a warrior at heart, though, and when he found himself to be undead, he made his way to Lordran, to find fame and fortune, and maybe even a cure.

And now here it was. A strange, armoured boar, clad in steel that gleamed in the sunlight, shining like a flame on a cold night, spent around a campfire, talking of impending battle and of dreams of victory and glory… Erik couldn't take it, roaring in defiance, nay, in rage, as he charged the beast, seeing its eyes glare as it noticed him.

It scraped its foot against the ground, causing small billows of dust to kick up as it prepared to charge. It bellowed, like it did so many years ago, when puny men just like this one dared to defy him, the mightiest beast of this world. It bellowed… and charged.

Erik was torn apart in an instant, attempting to ward of the beast with a blast of force before it slammed into him, tusks penetrating his chest before it tossed its head, the sheer force tearing him in two. The creatures animal intelligence barely registered the blood coating it as it turned to another puny man, like the first, but wearing robes and… dancing! It dared to danced in the face of its rage!

The boar prepared to charge, until it noticed the man throw something behind him. The skull exploded, a small miasma of souls causing him to turn, confused by this turn of events. It paid dearly for this mistake, the trident stabbing into its exposed hindquarters and penetrating its guts, before it fell forwards, dying.

The man with the trident giggled in delight as the beast died, before writing upon the ground with a small orange stone and walking away, giggling and smiling in delight.

The message read, simply:

_Try but hole._

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

**Done. And as promised, Souffle, there will be fourfold vengeance upon you. Fourfold vengeance, to pay for your sins. For the Dark Sons do not take kindly to those who attack their own…**


End file.
